


Sonnets: Tenipuri Style

by mmmdraco



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:44:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five sonnets written with five Tenipuri pairings in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sonnets: Tenipuri Style

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I mean no harm, I have no money... Stuff like that. Yeah.

Ethereal (TezuRyo)

With a muttered name on his lips, painted   
red with kisses like a fire blazing  
beyond control, Ryoma lets this hated  
passion get the best of him; this craving-  
Tezuka, his arms strong around the boy,  
makes gentle haste with soothing words to calm  
the frenzy in his mind. He must be coy  
and sweet and tender. His words a warm balm  
to ease the nervousness of the boy in  
his bed, with his own arms stretched above him.  
They mold together; a sculpture of sin  
of two boys who've made it through thick and thin.  
The future might hold things better; brighter;  
but compared to this, most things seem slighter.

 

Clinical (InuKai)

The number of times they kiss means little  
except in tally marks tacked on a page.  
Twenty-seven since last Monday; middle  
column smudged by Juice-stained fingers: a sage  
reminder of the dangers of science.  
Kaidoh enters, eyes darting side-to-side.  
And Inui lets his patience lie since   
he'll have the boy flushed prettily; spread wide.  
The room fills with steam and stifled moaning  
and Kaidoh is half-dissected, laid bare  
with the man above him smiling, owning  
his existence with a warm, wanton glare;  
telling him he's beautiful by the light  
of the Bunsen burner just out of sight.

 

Liberal (AkuTaka)

Burning is something so simple that Taka  
has learned to burn with anything in hand.  
He opens his mouth, his mind in strata  
as his mouth draws tight like a rubber band  
around Akutsu, his eyes tight shut.  
He knows the air is thick with heat. His lips  
work at places, starting moans. There's a cut  
on the thigh nearest the wall, trembling. Ships  
have sunken in the harbor from shaking  
as such. Taka burns brightly, loving this --  
the taste, the feel, the knowledge of making  
a boy of steel melt with naught but a kiss --  
but the kiss never ends until the boy  
finishes, no longer needing his toy.

 

Visceral (AtoMo)

Momo's stomach churns as he thinks of "it":  
the pretty sight of Atobe sprawled out  
in his bed, out of place; pale by the moonlit  
night. How things became like this, took this route;  
he isn't certain. But the pale boy smirks  
to find him staring from the other side  
of the bed. He kisses him; Momo perks  
up from his gloomy stupor. How this ride  
of life has lasted so long, Momo does  
not know. But that doesn't stop his thinking...  
Wondering if all this is wrong because  
this boy, smirking, has no head for drinking.  
It was only one drink, just a small one:  
Momo wonders if a next time will come.

 

Visible (Golden Pair)

Eiji has vision of twenty-twenty.  
He can see the way Oishi looks at him;  
that cool, calm smile, given a-plenty.  
This night, for them, is not done on a whim.  
Eiji plans, gathering supplies... hinting  
that the next sleepover will have no sleep.  
Oishi's wide eyes give him a thrill, glinting  
even as he clenches his fists to keep  
himself steady and smooth. They have never  
discussed anything like this. They are sweet  
and that is best, though Eiji feels clever  
for being the one to start this. He'll greet  
Oishi when he comes in the door, kissing  
him until all things but "this" are missing.


End file.
